


Clockwork City Theater Presents: (Dystopia)

by mournholdvacation



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Gen, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 03:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18402506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mournholdvacation/pseuds/mournholdvacation
Summary: Divayth Fyr comes to visit Clockwork City.Dramatic actions are taken.





	Clockwork City Theater Presents: (Dystopia)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on some goofing around with friends on Discord.

It is 7:03 AM in the morning when Varuni bursts into the Throne Aligned. 

Sotha Sil is sitting a table for breakfast. 

“Lord Seht I have important - … what are you doing.”

“Vivec and Almalexia are coming,” Seht says, placing an extra pillow on Ayem’s chair.

“That’s … really nice but, Lord Seht, horrible news! Divyath Fyr …”

Sotha Sil’s face lights up.

“Is he struck in in an realm of Oblivion?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Run over by a guar?”

“No.”

“Got eaten by a Skyrim bear?”

Varuni shakes her head.

“He’s on his way here.”

“Oh.”

-

It is 7:33 AM when the rest of the Tribunal arrives. 

“One of my Hands, made a cake,” Ayem says, stepping from the portal that spins open in the middle of the room. “I told them it was breakfast but she insisted.”

On the floor Seht is clobbering together a pair of stilts. 

“What are doing?”

“No … time,” breathes Sotha Sil. “Fyr … on … his way.”

Ayem frowns. 

“Kick the models under the cabinets and hide anything that looks less than god like,” she says. “You cannot allow him to see you like this.”

“I’m trying.”

Almalexia shoves the cake into Vivec’s hands, grabs the head of a factotum off the floor and chunks tosses it behind her into the portal. 

‘This is worse than the time he came to see you in my basement. At least it was only your marching band of clockwork men then. You have a ‘throne room’ and you are still - Vivec, dear, don’t steal the icing from the cake - still acting like a - “

“Do you think these will make me tall enough?” Seht asks, standing up and adjusting the stilts beneath his feet. 

Ayem frowns, recalls a much younger Seht and a pair of large logs he had used in a similar fashion. 

“Not too tall, you’ll fall.”

“I need to tower over him, Ayem. And I’m more balanced than before.”

He wobbles to the door, grabs an oversized hat from a table and disappears. 

There is the sound of metal crashing against the steps. 

Almalexia sighs, turns to Vivec. 

“At least we can eat this together,” he offers.

-

It is 8:05 AM when Seht pulls aside Luciana. 

“I could just crush him,” she offers. “An inky spot on the floor, we’ll put a rug over it, you’ll never know.”

“I can tell him you’re dead again,” Varuni pipes up.”Fell into one of the tanks this time.”

Sotha SIl shakes his head.

“He’s catching onto to that, no, we need something different. I need everyone to pretend you are living in a horrible dystopian city where I do not allow you luxury, rest, or to ever leave.”

Varuni gasps.

“Your only focus is upon knowledge, the secrets of the universe. Everything in this city is calculated by factotums to produce the best conditions suited for learning and invention and to keep you all in peak condition working while I churn out the secrets of the universe and largely ignore you.”

Luciana nods, turns and raises her hands, waving them to alert the rest of the apostles. 

“Okay everyone you heard your god! I want every decoration in this place, OUT. If it doesn’t hiss, tick, or turn it’s GONE. Take the pillows off the bed, and find that idiot that keeps trying to cook the fake mushrooms. You there! Take those chairs away right now, do you think we sit?! Do you think we rest!?’

-

It is 8:17 AM when knocks on the door of Razgurug’s house. 

“I need you to turn this into a slums.”

“You - what?”

“A slums,” Seht says, gesturing at the small, golden cottages and metal, and organic flowers planted among the sidework.

“Lord Seht,” the orc begins, “Did you fall down the cliff again -”

“Fyr is coming,” Seht says, already motioning for the factotum at his side to deposit the large, metal pipe. ‘I need him to think some of you are homeless and bitter at me.”

“But we’re not.”

“Pretend.”

-

It is 8:42 AM when the last of the illusion magic is cast. 

‘That doesn’t look quite right,” Razgurug mumbles as he rips another the sleeves of another shirt off and tosses it to the wood elf beside him. “I mean, shouldn’t we have a house of some sort.”

“I don’t know what a slum looks like!” the elf complains, tossing empty cans onto the ground. “I’ve never seen one!”

One of the residents comes running up, out of breath.

“Okay I’ve managed to enchant the statue of Lady Almalexia holding up Lord Sotha SIl with one hand, into a statue of him but his leg looks really off and I’m pretty sure he can’t actually move - “

“Oh it’s fine,” a woman says as she scribbles down a list of insults. “He won’t look at it long anyway, no reflection to see his ugly face.”

One of the apostles drags a plank against the wall. 

“What about the wayshrine? How do we explain that?”

“Ignore it. We’re living in a Slums, we’re supposed to be the stupid residents. Here practice bad mouthing Lord Seht.”

-

It is 9:14 AM when Sotha Sil stands nervously in front of the fortress and watches the horizon.

“How’s the food?”

“Dull and disgusting.”

“The fortress?”

“Wiped clean of reasonable living conditions and filled with dull eyed people.”

“Did you release the fabricants?”

“And cranked up the venom.”

Seht scans the land once more, waves his hand and sets the factotums to ‘attack’ mode. Maybe with luck he’ll forget. Maybe with luck one of the lizards will take off his arm. Maybe one of Almalexia’s hands will kill him for tracking mud on their Lady’s doormat. 

“Perhaps I have time to bring the automation out, that really horrible one.”

“Lord Seht,” Varuni warns.

“It’ll be like he’s talking to a reflection of himself.”

“You said you hate that thing.”

“I do.”

Somewhere, amongst the gold, a door swings open.

“He got through that faster than I thought,” Seht mumbles. 

“It’s not my fault,” Varuni mumbles. “I placed an extra row of defense factotums in there myself.”

Seht frowns, pushes Varuni towards a bush.

“He’s coming hide.”

“Wait - what do I do if you trip and fall?”

“Put me out of my misery and then get Ayem.”

-

It is 10:00 AM when Sotha Sil meets Fyr in the gardens. 

“Funny, I thought for sure - “

“Yes?”

“A vision I saw. You were a shadow and I had to send one of my bothersome fans and an assistant to get a light out of your dumpster and then it was revealed as a plot by a Daedric Prince and I had a marvelous moment where I stepped in at the last minute to save you.”

“A dream,” Sotha Sil says. “Or perhaps a prophecy. We are in your debt for appearing to avert us from this disaster.”

Fyr’s face contorts for a moment, eyes squinting. The stilts under Seht creak. 

“Yes,” he says at last. “I suppose I did. A pity I did not acquire the relic I sought. The Skeleton Key would have -”

“This?” Sil says, drawing the artifact from behind his back. “It appears at least part of your vision was correct.”

Fyr’s mouth drops, bubbling several nonsense words that Seht immediately stores away for prime spot viewing in the phanisphere.

“The Key! Where did you - “

“Do not worry dear friend. Only take it now, and know that I am entrusting you to safeguard it. A gift, for one who is dear to my heart. I fear we may not meet again, and perhaps you would remember an old god.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Fyr mumbles, opening a portal. “I - I must go now Seht, I must … find a secure spot for such a treasure. Goodbye.’

Seht counts the seconds, then the minutes after the portal closes. Gives Fyr an extra minute to spin around in delighted villianish glee before he stumbles off the stilts and motions Varuni to emerge from behind the bushes. 

“Call off the lockdown.”

-

It is 8:23 PM when the residents of Clockwork City lounge before the Brass Fortress. 

“It’s so nice to sit again,” sighs one, leaning back in the reclining chair. “Do you know how many times I had to look at that stupid plate? And then the stupid plate on the other side of the room?”

“Not as long as I had to pretend to be stuck here,” the mer beside him snorts. “I’m am important member of House Hlaalu! I demand to talk to someone in charge! Woe is me! Trapped in this infernal city with no way to get out!”

On the projection in front of them all, Fyr screams as crow grabs his ear. 

“You all deserve an award,” Seht says, “I think we’ll enter the Vivec City theater contest next spring. Call it, Dystopia.”

“I can’t believe he actually ate the paste,” the ‘mayor’ remarks, redressed in his robes and sharing a bowl of berries with a ‘slag town resident’. “Just took a whole spoonful and shoved it in his mouth! What was in that stuff anyway?”

“Mushrooms. Fabricated, mushrooms.”

“SIL,” projection Fyr screams, “SIL, LISTEN TO ME THEY’RE - AAAAH!”

“All prayers are heard,” Seht says, accepting another piece of cake. “Not all are acknowledged.”


End file.
